


Baby, You're a Haunted House

by tobiyos



Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Bottom Akechi Goro, Choking, Kinktober 2020, M/M, Persona 5 Protagonist is from Inaba, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Post-Canon, well there's a little plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26687728
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tobiyos/pseuds/tobiyos
Summary: There’s something too soft in the way Akira laughs around a gasp. “You loved me.”It’s a mistake, one that’s out of his mouth before he can really catch it. Two years of pining and mourning and loving, whole heartedly, has it tumbling from his lips, drunk on the excitement of Goro in his house, in his bed, in his life.“I did,” Goro says. “I do.”
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Series: Kinktober 2020 [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970752
Comments: 6
Kudos: 130





	Baby, You're a Haunted House

**Author's Note:**

> Happy kinkober! I've been writing these literally since JULY so, I hope somebody likes them! I've got at least 20 other fics lined up for the month (they're all at least 3k... please pray for me) so if you like this, check out the other entries as they get posted!
> 
> Haha...unbetaed because um. i dont have anybody to beta for me
> 
> Kinktober day one: breathplay

Akira wakes up to someone climbing through his window.

He doesn’t move, doesn’t think he’s even breathing, but he knows the sound of his own window being shaken free from its place, sliding up into the pane with a _click._ Morgana is blissfully asleep downstairs as far as he can tell, but even if his little fuzzy ass was nearby, a cat can’t do shit to someone breaking into his house through his window. Shit.

He pushes his hand down flat against his sheets, about to sit up, just in time for weight to drop against his chest, nearly knocking all the wind out of him. When his eyes fly open, they trace the shape of a familiar face in the dark and the telltale curve of a smile.

“Evening, joker.”

Akira stares for too long, mouth hanging open. “ _Akechi_?”

“In the flesh,” Goro whispers brightly, and Akira feels a hand press against his chest, holding him down as though Goro isn’t literally _sitting_ on top of him. “Miss me?”

He looks different, the edges of his bangs longer, brushing past the arch of his eyebrows towards his eyes, and they look almost… dark? “Did you dye your hair?”

Goro rolls his eyes like Akira is an idiot. It’s a strangely familiar gesture that has Akira nostalgic for Tokyo and a café full of bright lights and loud teenagers. “Such an astute observation.” He shrugs. “I suppose I needed a change.” His hair is Akira’s color now, a black that absorbs whatever light is coming in from the window. His hands slide further up Akira’s chest towards his collarbone, and Akira’s breath catches. “Do you like it?”

Akira squirms until Goro is sliding back onto his half propped up thighs so he can sit up on his arms. “Why are you in Inaba? Did you come find me?” And then, a little more frantic. “I thought you were dead!”

Goro glances off to the side of Akira’s room. “Well, I’m _not_ dead, so there’s one fear assuaged. Unless you’d rather consider me some kind of spirit, which, knock yourself out, I suppose. As for you,” His hands move up so that Goro can cradle the sides of Akira’s face, and Akira’s skin is going fever hot under his bare hands. He doesn’t think he’s _felt_ Goro’s skin like this before, has always been offered the buffer of those ridiculous gloves. “You were the darling boy of half of the city. It wasn’t difficult to do some snooping. Or did you think they called me the detective prince for nothing?”

“Wait, wait,” Akira is saying, and then Goro is kissing him, too fast and dizzying. Akira barely registers it, too shocked to do anything but blink rapidly, watching the curve of Goro’s eyelashes and the soft edges of his cheeks. His mouth is plush and warm, which, while nice, doesn’t explain why Goro is _kissing him._

“To think, you were some country boy this whole time,” Goro says, pulling away. Akira is still frozen in place, his eyes wide. There’s a gentle scratching noise as Goro trails a blunt nail down the column of Akira’s neck, before there’s another too gentle kiss landing at the corner of Akira’s shocked mouth.

“Why are you _here_?” Akira demands again, trying to ignore the part of his brain that’s telling him he’s an idiot for questioning anything when Goro is in his house, and in his bed, and apparently wants to _kiss him_.

It earns him another eye roll. When his face comes back into view, Goro looks a little more composed, even if his face is starting to go an adorable pink. He at least seems less like he’s trying to bulldoze his way into Akira’s mouth. “I came to see you. I, ah,” he goes quieter then, like he’s embarrassed. “I needed to see you.”

Well that’s… unexpected. Akira blinks a few times, still wondering if he’s half asleep and maybe dreaming, but even when he sits up fully, Goro just glances away, blushing like his admittance was something he’d have rather kept to himself. Cautiously, Akira wraps both of his arms around Goro’s waist, and can’t tamper down his smile when he sees how relived Goro looks. “I’m glad you’re here,” Akira whispers. “I would have come to see you if I had known…”

Goro shakes his head and sighs. “I was trying to keep things on the quieter side. After Maruki, I thought you all deserved some peace and quiet. But I’ve got to repay my debts. And you always _did_ have a way of making things difficult.”

Akira’s smile breaks wider across his face. “And you’re repaying that debt by breaking into my house to kiss me?”

Goro presses his lips together in a straight line with a huff, arms winding around Akira’s neck gently. His clear gaze catches Akira, eyes still pretty and crimson in the light coming through the window. “No, I do believe that’s more for myself than anything.”

This time, Akira is prepared when he leans forward, their mouths slotting together firmly.

Akira hums, and then he’s kissing back happily, the way he would have the first time if he’d been just a bit more awake. It would be a lie to say he hasn’t thought about this before—the warm press of Goro’s body, his hands sliding up into Akira’s hair—even with every twist in turn of his run with the Phantom Thieves.

“I missed you,” Akira murmurs, and then he’s kissing Goro’s nose and his cheeks, the edge of his eye. ”I never told you, I should have told you—”

“I should have come earlier, should have—”

“I felt so selfish when we were with Maruki, wondered every day if I should have taken his offer to keep you with us—”

“Shut up, _shut up_ , I told you that could have been the worst thing for you to do—”

“You knew didn’t you?” He asks, with a final kiss to the curve of Goro’s shoulder, and then he’s leaning back and Goro is moving his arms and going to pull his shirt over his own head. “Knew you’d still be here when everything was done.”

“I didn’t,” Goro gasps, when Akira slides his hands over his stomach and sides reverently. His skin is cool underneath but warm to the touch, and Goro stretches a little under his hands, like the attention is making him bolder. “I had hope, as strange as it feels to say, but I didn’t _know_ , and after the ship, after everything, I didn’t really care.” He’s pushing his hands up under Akira’s own shirt, and his palms are as cold as the rest of him had been.

“I cared,” Akira says, helping Goro slide his own shirt over his head, even when it catches on one of his arms and Akira does more laughing then helping things along, and then Goro is pushing him backwards on the bed, his features are going blurry with the distance.

“Goro,” he says, reaching out, and just laying a hand against Goro’s jaw, watches Goro lean into the touch like they’re pulled together.

“You’ve ruined me,” he whispers. Akira’s heart hurts, feels close to bursting, and Goro’s eyelashes look so light in the moonlight it’s like he’s a painting hung with care on Akira’s wall. Even with the new hair and the unfamiliar though half shed clothes, he still looks like a dream trapped in a human being.

“Let me make it better?” he offers, and Goro’s smile creeps back onto his face.

“Well it’s the least you can do,” he says, and then he’s grinding his hips back against Akira’s slow growing erection, and his voice catches on a shuddered gasp.

Akira glides his hand up the rough material of Goro’s pants on his thighs and tries not to groan. “For someone who tried to kill me plenty of times, it’s strange to think the closest you might actually come would be like this.”

Goro’s hips shove back again, and his hand is on Akira’s stomach, just resting. “Fate _is_ a bitch.”

Akira strokes up the tops of his thighs again, wishes it was Goro’s bare skin instead. He can feel the smile at his lips, even as Goro is wiggling backwards, trying to get enough room under him so he can hook his fingers in the waist of the pajama pants Akira is wearing. “So, was the whole ‘I hate you, we’re rivals’ thing a bit?”

Goro braces one hand against Akira’s stomach, and it’s so cold that it makes the surrounding area rise up with goosebumps. “No, we’re definitely rivals,” he says, and Akira can hear the smug note in his voice when he presses into Akira’s pants and wraps a hand around his dick. Akira jumps and groans, an arm coming up to get thrown over his face. “Unless you have a better idea?”

“ _Shit,_ Goro,” is apparently Akira’s better idea, and the chuckle it earns him makes the painful squeeze of his chest feels wind tighter. Goro tugs gently at Akira’s pants, silently asking permission, and Akira finds he wants to give, arching his hips off of the bed so that Goro can slide his pants off of his hips. He keeps his arm thrown over his face, because as much as he wants to see Goro right now, he’s way more embarrassed about how hard he is already now that it’s out in the open. Goro doesn’t seem to mind, though, if the gentle strokes to Akira’s cock are anything to go by. Akira breathes hard through his nose, feet pressing into his sheets, worried about his parents hearing him from their room on the same floor.

There’s a moment where Goro’s weight on him largely disappears, and Akira moves his arm enough to see Goro lift himself up on his knees, settling himself so he doesn’t topple over. “Do you know how upset I was to find out you weren’t in Tokyo when I got back?” He doesn’t look particularly upset now, hands working deftly to pop the button of his pants and slide the zipper down with a hiss that sounds entirely too loud to the quiet of Akira’s room. “All the phantom thieves scattered to the winds,” Akira’s mouth goes dry when Goro pulls his cock out, throat working valiantly around a soft sigh, “At least Sakura-san was still in that old café instead of moving to Sweden or something. Honestly.” He’s shaking his head, the perfect picture of poise even with his hand twisting languidly around the wet head of his cock. Akira reaches out and rests his fingertips just at the bit of exposed skin above his underwear, and Goro shudders gently like he’s been shocked.

“ _Goro,_ ” Akira says again, a little breathier, because he can’t actually decide what he wants in the moment, just following the moonlit glow across Goro’s pale skin.

“Do you know how I found out where you’d moved?” He asks, and then he’s leaning forward so his face is barely an inch from Akira’s, pupils big and blown out. “A _fortune teller._ It’s not even as if she used divination or some other such nonsense—apparently she just _knew_ you.”

“You could have texted me,” Akira says, moving the hand on Goro’s side to cup at the back of his neck gently, feeling at the light sheen of sweat under the cover of his hair.

“And ruin the surprise?” Goro huffs, and then buries his face in Akira’s shoulder with a groan. “Not a chance.”

“Didn’t know you were so spontaneous,” Akira laughs, cut off by a choked sound as Goro grinds up against him, the hot length of his cock pulsing against Akira’s.

“You do bring out strange impulses in me,” Goro gasps, and then he’s kissing Akira again, hurried and too sloppy but _good_. He’s like an addict with his first fix in months, Goro’s mouth wet and inviting and deliciously slick, especially when Goro nips playfully at his tongue. He shouldn’t like it as much as he does, but he can’t help the low groan that rumbles out of him, the way his hips buck against Goro’s again. His hair is rough when Akira slides his fingers through it, and his mouth slides away with a wet pop.

“Box dye? Really?”

“Hush,” Goro is saying, and putting more space between them to wrap his hand around Akira’s cock too. “You focus on the _most_ ridiculous things, do you know that?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call you ridiculous,” Akira says, with another jerk of his hips that pulls a too loud noise out of Goro. Goro’s hand feels so good around him that Akira’s brain is swimming, leaning into the friction of his too wet palms.

“You were always the most infuriating person I did have to interact with,” Goro huffs affectionately.

There’s something too soft in the way Akira laughs around a gasp. “You loved me.”

It’s a mistake, one that’s out of Akira’s mouth before he can really catch it. Two years of pining and mourning and _loving_ , whole heartedly, has it tumbling from his lips, drunk on the excitement of Goro in his house, in his bed, in his life.

There are excuses and apologies on the tip of his tongue that Goro cuts off just as easily with a soft kiss to Akira’s cheek, a shy flicker in his too soft eyes.

“I did,” he mutters. “I do.” He’s turning red again and isn’t paying enough attention to Akira surging forward and knocking him back onto his bed like a freight train.

They tumble backwards towards the foot of Akira’s mattress, and Goro sighs, and letting Akira kiss him slowly, trail hands down his shoulders and his chest and cement the fact that Goro is _real_ and _alive_ and apparently loves him, which is not what he thought he’d be waking up to when he went to sleep that night.

Goro winds his arms around Akira’s neck. “Are you going to fuck me, or did I come to Inaba to confess and get blue balled?”

Akira is swearing and sitting up to look around his room for wherever he put the lube he knows he has. “Don’t move,” he says, and rests a hand on Goro’s chest before he moves again, sliding out of the bed to snatch the tiny bottle of lube out from where he’s hidden it behind a few textbooks on his desk.

Goro really doesn’t move, and when Akira is back to sitting in front of him he just stares, trails his eyes down Goro’s bared throat and the flush crawling across his chest, down to his cock hard against his stomach, pants half off. He reaches out and trails his fingers from Goro’s stomach up to his nipples, thumbs gently and almost idly at one. Goro’s responding sound is dizzying.

“You’re going to have to be quiet,” Akira says, and manages to get Goro’s pants off of his legs and tossed towards Akira’s desk. “I’d rather not have to explain to my parents why I’m in bed with some teenager they’ve never seen.”

“What, not the playboy type, joker?” Akira presses a kiss to one of Goro’s thighs and smirks against his skin when he makes a small, surprised noise at the press of Akira’s finger dry against his ass. “I was h-half afraid I might come back and find you engaged.”

“Never,” Akira breathes, leaning back to pour lube across his fingers, pressing back at Goro’s entrance. Not inside, just where he can see it, push like he might enter. “I think you’ve basically owned me since the TV station.”

“Sweet, but rather unbelievable,” Goro says, and then there’s a moan pressing out of his lungs when Akira pushes a finger inside of him slowly. “You’re were— _fuck_ —always the charmer.”

“Only with you,” Akira answers, and presses a kiss to the front of Goro’s knee where it’s popped up to sit beside his face. He moves his finger a little, just trying to test out how hard they’re going to have to work to open Goro up. Goro’s leg jerks as he makes a half-choked hiccup noise. Akira pushes into him harder, breaching into the tight heat of Goro’s insides, and then pulls out almost all the way to watch the way Goro glares at him over the length of his body.

“Save the flirting for later, idiot.”

Akira smiles, and adjusts a little better on the bed so he can lean forward and kiss the base of Goro’s cock. It earns him a choked groan and Goro’s eyelids fluttering closed gently. Akira thinks he looks absolutely gorgeous, flushed and sweaty and gripping Akira’s sheets for dear life. He adds a second finger beside the one inside and it’s a little tighter, Goro’s stomach tensing and relaxing visibly. Akira slides his tongue around Goro’s cock again, letting spit slick up his swollen mouth as he works towards Goro’s head, and the little low gasping noises Goro are creating are making Akira’s dick ache uncomfortably, throbbing between his legs.

“Have you any shame?” Goro groans quietly, and there’s a hand tangling in Akira’s curls, not pressing or moving him but just holding to _own_ , and Akira purrs happily around Goro’s cock. It earns him another noise, this time a little louder, and Akira has to back off, just in case Goro wakes the house.

“I used to be so embarrassed about it,” Akira says, and fucks his fingers in and out of Goro with greater intensity, a movement that makes Goro’s bent legs splay wider, like he’s silently asking for more. “I used to get off to the idea of giving you head, and then I’d have to look you in the eye the day after and pretend like I didn’t regularly imagine you gasping my name.” Goro whines, and he shifts his hips on Akira’s fingers. “We got so busy, I didn’t think about it again until we were alone in Maruki’s palace, and if we weren’t so stressed I probably would have pushed you up against a wall in a safe room and made you choke me on it.”

“Jesus, Akira,” Goro wheezes, and the hand in Akira’s hair pulls harder when Akira adds a third finger to the mix. It feels more like he’s getting impatient now, working with the intent of stretching Goro out instead of trying to get him off.

Akira sucks back down on his cock, just to give himself something to do, and Goro is consistently making small noises, his hips giving little jerks up into Akira’s mouth.

“Do it, do it, please,” Goro begs, tugging Akira by the hair off of his cock. “I can take it, I promise.”

“Well, if you’re going to be so polite,” Akira says, sliding his fingers out of Goro and shifting forward on his knees.

“What are you—” Goro asks when Akira slips his hands under his hips, and then yelps when Akira hauls him up onto his folded legs

“ _Shh!_ ” Akira hisses, and Goro’s eyes go wide, a hand slapping over his own mouth.

“ _I’d be quieter if you told me when you were planning on manhandling me!_ ”

Akira rolls his eyes but lines up with Goro’s hole anyway, a hand tight on Goro’s hips. “Quit bitchin’.”

Goro is snickering when Akira pushes inside, fading from a quiet laugh to a slow, drawn out moan that makes Akira shudder. The pressure on his dick is incredible, almost painful with how tight Goro is, but it’s better than anyone else he’s ever even thought of doing this with. _Fuck_ , he wants to have Goro make that sound again. He wishes they were somewhere he could pick Goro apart, fuck him until he cries.

“ _Shit,_ ” Goro drawls, and gropes around on the bed like he’s reaching for something. Akira catches on with his own hand, and breathes hard, trying not to move too fast now that he’s inside and everything is _tight, tight, tight_.

“Move?” Akira whispers. Goro just nods, and Akira rocks into him shallowly, and it makes him fold over Goro at the feeling, like he’s trying to wring his dick out. His next thrust has them both gasping, and Akira is stopping again.

“What, can’t- _ngh!_ Can’t hang, Joker?”

Akira breathes hard and then he’s pushing inside again and wrapping a hand around Goro’s dick. “I’ll be just fine.”

Goro makes a low grumbling sound, but it’s cut off by a hiccup as Akira finally starts fucking him, pushing inside in short jerks, too fast.

“ _Oh, hell,_ ” Goro is gasping, and then, “Akira, _shit,_ _Akira_.” He squeezes Akira’s hand, and his insides squeeze around Akira’s cock and Akira is groaning back.

“Shit, you’re tight. And _warm_ ,” he groans, and Goro’s back bows when Akira uses the hand on his hip to pull Goro back to meet his thrusts.

“You love it,” Goro slurs, tossing Akira’s words from earlier back in his face.

“Fuck yes I do,” Akira growls, and then he’s shifting his hips a little bit, and Goro moans too loud again, and gasps and shudders, and Akira is having to go back to the gentle little rocks from earlier.

“N-no,” Goro gasps, and Akira can see his eyes watering, lip trembling like he’s going to throw a tantrum. “C’mon, that’s not fair. _Ngh_ -do it again, Akira. _Come on!_ ”

“You’re too _loud_ ,” Akira hisses, though he does fuck Goro faster, avoiding his prostate.

“ _Hah, ah_ , Akira, I’ll be q-quiet, I’ll be _quiet_ — _Fuck_!” he pushes his hips against Akira’s like he’s trying to push him into the spot again, but Akira swats at one of his legs lightly. “Fuck, you can _make_ me quiet, Akira, _please_ , just do it again.”

“You want me to make you quiet?” Akira asks, leaning forward to bracket the sides of Akech’s head with his hands.

“ _Yes_ ,” Goro hisses, grinding his hips against where Akira has stopped moving, his breath coming out in little sounds that are making Akira’s head spin. “Fuck, if you just put your hands around my throat, I’ll, _ngh,_ I’ll be so quiet you can fuck me as hard as you want.”

Akira groans and leans down to kiss Goro again, before he leans back and pushes Goro’s hips higher when he moves closer into his head, folding Goro in half. “You want me to choke you, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Goro whines. Akira wants to _break_ him, he realizes, rather intensely, so he presses the heel of one hand to the side of Goro’s neck, just shy of his windpipe. Goro shudders and groans like he’s wrapped his hand around his cock, eyes rolling back into his head with a choked whine. When he fucks right into Goro’s prostate, Goro garbles and gasps, but he’s largely quiet, and Akira’s orgasm feels like it’s piling up low in his stomach, rolling out with each thrust of his hips against Goro’s.

“Fuck, Goro,” Akira groans and fucks him harder, watching blissfully as Goro struggles for air and his pulse flutter against Akira’s fingertips. He pulls his hands off of Goro’s throat for a second, and Goro opens his eyes just long enough to slur, “Don’t let go, don’t stop,” and Akira is pressing his hands back to Goro’s neck and coming, hips stuttering out of rhythm inside of him.

“ _Akira,_ ” Goro chokes out, and Akira reaches down to tug at Goro’s cock, fast and hard and Goro is whining and coming on Akira’s fist, and his own stomach, voice going gravely.

“Motherfucker,” Goro gasps when Akira finally remembers to get his hands off of Goro’s throat, breathing hard and pulling Akira down by the back of his neck for a languid kiss that makes the sluggish way his body feels go warm with affection.

“I missed you,” Akira says into Goro’s mouth.

Goro sighs. “I know.”

“Stay the night.”

There’s a moment, just a pause where Goro is looking somewhere not at Akira, and then he’s nodding. “Okay.” Akira tries to pull out of Goro but can’t help laughing at the way Goro’s nose squishes up as he goes, the come inside of him probably going cool. “Ugh,” he says as he sits up. “I need a shower.”

Akira leans down over the bed to grab his shirt, and then he’s sitting back up to wipe at Goro’s bare stomach and over his own hand. He’s pulls Goro backwards, into his lap and then down, so he can fit Goro under his now wrinkled sheets. “We can shower in the morning?”

“Fine,” Goro huffs, but he burrows back against Akira’s chest comfortably, his hair pressing into Akira’s face. It’s got the chemical smell he remembers clearly from the few times he’d gotten close enough to Ryuji after he’d touched up his roots. It’s familiar.

It’s quiet for a moment, just the sound of Goro’s breathing, and then Goro clears his throat. “Earlier, when I said I loved you—”

“Akechi, you don’t have to—”

“I do.” Goro says louder, cutting Akira off. His hand finds the one Akira has wrapped around his waist, and he just rests his own palm on top. “Love you, I mean. I love you.”

Akira takes a shuddering breath and buries his face in Goro’s hair. Goro’s shitty, box died, chemical smelling hair. He’s trying not to cry. “I love you too. Have for a while.”

“Great.” Goro says, like this is a conversation he has every day. Akira can’t help his laugh. “Now let me go to sleep.” He adds under his breath. “I think I’ll need it if I want to walk tomorrow.”

Akira laughs and pulls Goro’s hair back to kiss him on his neck, and then he’s listening to Goro’s breathing even out before he’s falling asleep.

When Akira wakes up, his bed is warm, but empty. He sits up, hopes that maybe Goro will have just gotten up to go to the bathroom or something, but he can see Goro’s clothes missing from his floor, and disappointment sinks its talons into his chest. He’d wonder if it was a dream, were he not naked and sweaty, and very distinctly sore in places he’s unused to.

He rolls over to check the time on his phone out of habit, wondering how long it’s been since the sun came up, but the second he turns it on, finds his messages open to a text conversation with an unsaved number. There are only two messages: the first from him, reading humbly, _Goro, that was possibly the most amazing night of my entire life and I’m so very glad you’re alive and incredibly sexy._ Akira laughs and reads the next message, from only ten or so minutes ago.

_Thank you, Akira, I’m glad your taste is immaculate, and your dick is huge._

Akira laughs and texts back, _Feel free to climb though my window anytime._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm doing updates and bitching about editing on my  
> [Twitter](https://twitter.com/tobi_yos) and complaining about how there are only so many nice way to describe dicks on my  
> [NSFW Twitter.](https://twitter.com/h0ney_bunns) Come say hi!!


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